


Weary Heart

by starrkeys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Loneliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 18:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5137730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrkeys/pseuds/starrkeys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna is alone and she misses her mother and she's mostly okay with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weary Heart

**Author's Note:**

> There really isn't much of a plot and it just kind of spans over several years of Luna's life. More of an exploration of Luna as a three dimensional character than anything else.

Luna started Hogwarts determined to make her father proud. She wanted to live up to her mother’s reputation in the best possible way. She wanted to make her father happy.

For the most part, Luna and her father were fine. They got along well. They were interested in the same sorts of things and could speak a common language. They’d always been close and when her mother died, that didn’t change. They worked on the Quibbler together and they went on expeditions to try to find the Crumple Horned Snorkack. They went on fishing trips and read obscure books about obscure things. They gardened and grew their dirigible plums. They headed to international conferences with like-minded individuals. What they did not do was deal with her mother’s death. They never talked about it. Luna didn’t even have the words to talk about it. It was indescribable.

For the most part, they were fine. But sometimes things got hard. No matter how much whimsy you put forth, no matter how lackadaisical you were, sometimes bad things crept in. It was inevitable.

*

Luna had never had a best friend. She was fine with this. She didn’t want friends. All they ever seemed to do was gossip and expect strange things of each other. She didn’t understand friendship, if she wanted to be honest. Luna didn’t really understand other kids her age. Most of them didn’t even believe in Wrackspurts. In the books she read, all of the characters had at least one friend. No matter how much of an outcast they were, they always had a best friend to turn to.

Luna didn’t want to have to sit with people at meal times. She didn’t want to have to make small talk. She didn’t want to sacrifice her opinions to appease other people. She didn’t want to study in groups; she’d always got on just fine by herself.

It was only in her darkest moments that the loneliness crept in. It was only when she was at her absolute worst that she cried for her mum to hug her and kiss her and tell her tales of absolute wonder. It was only then that she longed for her father to appraise her with that knowing look and prescribe the perfect medicine (usually a steaming hot mug of herbal tea and a dance to ward off evil). It was only on these very rare occasions that she wanted a friend.

A friend not in the usual sense of the word. But just someone that would sit with her and not look at her funny and listen to her talk and to hold her when she cried. Instead when it got to that point, she was forced to hug her pillow to her chest and take comfort in knowing that it would be over soon. Just as soon as the sadness that lived in her littlest finger slunk away back to its hiding place. (Sadness was in the littlest finger, happiness in the throat and anger was an affliction of the eardrum.)

When she felt her thoughts spiraling out of control, she would try to keep them at bay. Luna went on wanderings, exploring the castle and the grounds and even the Forbidden Forest if she was certain of not getting caught. She spent time in the greenhouses, not tending to the plants but simply being with them. She wrote letters to her father, studied her books and went up to the Owlery to discuss the problems of today’s capitalistic society in little hoots with the owls. She spent hours on rooftops, studying the stars and their possible application in fortune telling.

But mostly she suffered alone.

*

In Charm class in third year, Luna met someone who she supposed could be considered a friend. Ginny Weasley had always been nice. She was terrific at most spells and funny and if anyone ever teased anyone else she’d stand up and send some sort of hex their way. She wasn’t terribly keen on gossiping as far as Luna could tell, which was definitely a good thing as well. Luna got the impression that the whole being-taken-by-Voldemort thing had helped to make Ginny less frivolous than other girls their age.

They were learning Cheering Charms and Professor Flitwick paired the two of them off together. Ginny said she liked Luna’s knotted fabric necklace (it was to ward off Nargles; they’d taken to stealing her things recently and Luna was using all of the tricks her father had taught her to put a stop to it). Luna said she liked how Ginny had told that Beauxbatons boy off for saying something sexist in the corridor.

After realizing that both of them could cast a perfect Cheering Charm with little effort, the two decided to work together from then on. Both liked their school work and liked working alone for the most part. This made them particularly well suited as they could pull their own weight, then compare notes at the end to make sure they’d both thought of everything.

Ginny was the first person that Luna spent any time with voluntarily at Hogwarts and Luna had to admit that she did like it. She liked chatting about the oppression that wizards put upon other magical races. Maybe they weren’t friends exactly. But it was something and Luna liked that.

*

After Transfiguration one day, Luna went back to her dorm and took off her robes and got into bed. They’d been talking about the limitations of transfiguring one’s appearance and it was truly not okay. Luna’s mother had been working on a way around the rules. (Something about colour and light refraction… Luna hadn’t understood but she had been only nine at the time.) This was what killed her.

Luna did not go to her afternoon classes. She did not go to dinner. She hugged her pillow and she cried and she remembered the melodious quality of her mother’s voice. She remembered how her mother always smelled of cinnamon and the outdoors. She remembered all the promises and plans they’d made together, as a family. She remembered the feeling of her mother’s strong arms around her.

She wanted someone to talk to about all that was going on in her head. She wanted someone to be there for her. She wanted someone to hold on to her and never, ever, ever let go.

Luna ached for human contact.

*

Without even meaning to, Luna found herself in a group of friends. She had real, live friends for the first time in her life. (One of which was Harry Potter of all people.) It was accidental for the most part. She couldn’t even exactly pinpoint when or how they’d become more than just acquaintances. She had people that cared about her.

She may not have been anyone’s best friend but she didn’t want the obligations that came with that anyway. She was happy. She was truly, deeply happy.

If all friendships made you feel like this, then Luna understood the appeal.

She still didn’t have someone there for her every time she needed it. She still didn’t feel quite right asking any of them to hold her and never let go. But the possibility was there. There was comfort in that, somehow. She was going to be fine.


End file.
